


ghosts of the past

by vampireluv



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Mike Hanlon & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, alive stan uris, benverly and reddie r minor but they show up, since u know.... stan is alive, stan centric, this goes along with it 2019 but i changed some things around so it's not rly spoiling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 04:03:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampireluv/pseuds/vampireluv
Summary: For the past twenty-seven years, Stan had felt that a huge chunk of him was missing. There was something that his brain and body longed for, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. All he knew was that when he sees a trailer for a horror movie, he immediately turns to face his side as if to make plans with a ghost- a ghost that fills a gap in his heart.He knows it’s crazy. It’s crazy that he’s in love with a memory of someone that he doesn’t remember. Stan tries to remember; he truly does, but all he comes up with is the feeling of calmness, warmth, and love.





	ghosts of the past

**Author's Note:**

> basically, i love stan uris and he deserved better than what was given to him

For the past twenty-seven years, Stan had felt that a huge chunk of him was missing. There was something that his brain and body longed for, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. All he knew was that when he sees a trailer for a horror movie, he immediately turns to face his side as if to make plans with a ghost- a ghost that fills a gap in his heart. 

He knows it’s crazy. It’s crazy that he’s in love with a memory of someone that he doesn’t remember. Stan tries to remember; he truly does, but all he comes up with is the feeling of calmness, warmth, and  _ love.  _

The craziest part is that he doesn’t seem to remember his childhood, or where he got the scar on his palm. He doesn’t remember the reason why there are tiny scars surrounding his face. It bothers him. 

It bothers him because Stan has tried to move on from the ghost of his past, but it seems like his soul is against it. 

As if his soul knows that he was meant to be with this certain person. If only it was easier to remember. 

“Stan, honey, you’ve been staring at that puzzle for ten minutes, are you okay?” 

“Oh, yeah, Patts, I’m okay. Just trying to decide whether I want to glue it once finish,” Stan replied as he smiled at his best friend- or what he thinks is his best friend. He’s not sure what a best friend is as he never allows himself to get close to someone-

_ “Stan the man! You are my best friend no matter what. Don’t forget that.” _

Stan blinked at the sudden memory of a boy with enormous glasses and jet black hair- curly like his except much more wild and dirty. 

“ _ Shut up, trashmouth. I won’t forget. Good luck in California.” _

“Stan? Stan!” Patty exclaimed, shaking Stan’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay? You zoned out on me and kept repeating ‘I won’t forget’,"she frowned. “Did you forget something important?”

_ Yes. Yes, I forgot something about me.  _

“Oh, I’m sorry, Patty. I haven’t been sleeping well- that’s probably why I’m zoning out and mumbling random things,” Stan replied, softly as he looked down at his puzzle. 

“Okay...We’re still on for the trip right?” 

“Yeah, I should be able to get off work. It’s summer, why not?

“That’s the spirit, Stanley!-”

“ _ It’s summer, we’re supposed to be having fun-” _

_ “If yu-you say it’s suh-summer one more f-f-fucking time-” _

Stan was unable to stop the small gasp that escaped his lips as his mind provided him with a memory of a young boy with blue eyes and auburn hair; along with it came that same warm feeling that he’s been trying to understand for the past decade... 

_ Who is this boy? _

“...and I was thinking we can buy one of those beach hats since you always complain about the sun…”

Stan nodded, absentmindedly as Patty rambled on. He squinted his eyes as he glared at his puzzle. 

He was frustrated. 

Confused. 

He wanted to know who these people are: the boy with glasses way too big for him and the boy with sunshine in his smile. Stan shrugged it off, it was probably a cruel game that his mind is playing- making him think that he forgot people from his past. If they were important to him, he is sure he would’ve remembered. 

Therefore, those boys are not important to him. 

_ But they are, aren’t they, Stan?  _ A cold, teasing voice surrounded him.  _ They were so important that it’s driving you insane not knowing who they are, or maybe you weren’t important to them.  _

Stan’s heart hammered against his chest as he scanned the room, searching for the owner of the chilly shrill voice. 

A hand touches his shoulder causing Stan to jump up. “Get away from me!”

“Stan? What’s going on?” Patty’s kind voice questioned lightly, melting away any coldness that the previous voice brought. “You started shaking. You’re scaring me-”

Stan’s eyes snapped towards Patty and he relaxed as he noticed the concern on her face. It reminded him of-

_ “Stan, you can always talk to me, okay? We are the only ones that were trapped. I understand, please talk to me-” the red-headed girl looked at him with concern.  _

...reminded him of someone that he once remembered. Someone with fiery red hair-

“ _ ...so I wrote her a poem,” a boy with kind brown eyes, and a kind smile looked up at him. He gave Stan a wrinkled paper. “Here, this was a draft...but don’t laugh at me, please. I came to you because I trust that you will tell me if this is a bad idea-” _

_ Stan nodded, “Yeah, of course. You can trust me.” He looked down at the paper and read it: _

_ Your hair is winter fire,  _

_ January embers.  _

_ My heart burns there, too. _

_ “This is great, I’m sure she’ll love it. This is good. Don’t change anything-” _

“...I’m fine, Patty. I promise. I think I need some sleep,” Stan mumbled as he nodded to himself. He walked closer to the girl and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to take a nap. Thank you for being here.”

Patty smiled up at him and nodded. “Always here, Stanny. You’re my best friend.”

“ _ You should stop by the farm sometimes, Stanny. The lambs miss you, you’re the only one I trust to be around my grandpa’s animals,” a dark-skinned boy with the worlds’ most beautiful smile, nudged him. “I haven’t seen you around. Everyone already left already and I’d like to spend some time with my favorite-” _

“Stan? Are you okay? Is it the nickname?” Patty questioned, flushing a bright red. “I don’t like it either, I’m not sure why I said it. It was like something forced me to, I’m sorry.”

“No, no it’s okay. It just reminded me of something that’s all,” Stan muttered, walking past her and into his bedroom. “I like remembering even if I don’t understand.”

He took a look around his room, feeling like this would be the last time he would ever be able to enjoy the solitude that his room provides. It’s one of the perks of being roommates with your college friend- being able to afford a good apartment with big rooms. 

He’s just lucky that Patty is organized and knows how to clean, not the same as him, but almost. He always had trouble finding someone who was just as clean as he was. Nobody understood his need for having things organized a certain way or cleaned as much as possible. 

_ “Fuck off. Leave Stan alone. Who cares if he wants us to wash our hands before eating?!” a short boy with a red tee, exclaimed as he glared at the boy with the big glasses. “Do you know how many germs your hands have? You can get so many diseases by spreading your germs around. And then I’m going to have to take care of you, so go wash your hands, dick.” _

_ The small boy turned to Stan, smiling sheepishly. “I get it. I need things to be clean. Maybe that’s why we understand each other. At this rate, we should live together when we go to college, if we go to the same one, of course.” _

Stan frowned as he laid down, he doesn’t understand where all of these memories are coming from. He was worried that more will appear, but somehow he knew that it’s just them. 

These people were important to him at some point. 

But not important enough for Stan to remember their names. 

His ringtone cut through his thoughts and he blinked at his phone screen: 

Incoming Call from 

xxx-xxx-xxxx

Derry, Maine

Maine. 

Derry. 

_ Derry.  _

Dread filled Stan’s body as he continued to stare at his phone. 

_ The flute lady.  _

_ Pain.  _

_ “YOU’RE NOT MY FRIENDS! YOU MADE ME GO INTO NEILBOLT” _

  
  


Stan winced as he looked down at his palm. 

_ “Suh-swear, swear, if IT isn’t dead, if IT ever comes back, w-we will come back too.” _

_ The blood oath.  _

Stan's hand shook as he accepted the call, bringing it towards his ear. “H-hello?”

“Stan!” a familiar kind, a relieved voice exclaimed. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to answer. You took awhile. I miss you.”

_ “Stan, I’m going to miss you. Promise me you’ll call me.” _

_ “I promise. I can’t believe you’re staying in this town.” _

_ “I have to help around the farm. Plus, someone needs to be around to know if something happens-” _

_ “I will miss you, Mike.” _

“...Mike? Oh, Mike-” Stan’s voice wavered. He sat up- his body shaking slightly. “I-it’s been a while…”

“Yeah, it has,” Mike mumbled into his phone. “I was just calling-”

“It’s happening again,” Stan stated. “We have to defeat it again.”

Silence consumed Stan for a minute or two that he was worried that Mike had hung up on him. 

“Yes. It’s back, Stan-”

“A-are you sure? Maybe it’s nothing-”

“Stan, please. You promised.”

Stan swallowed and nodded. “I-I know. Have you called the others?”

“Bev and Eddie are next.”

Stan let out a shuddering breath as his brain connected the dots. 

“Bev had red hair, right? Eddie...Eddie is the one that helped me clean and was patient with me-”

A warily chuckle came from the other man. “Yes. You remember. You really remember, Stan. You  _ remember. _ ”

“I..yeah, I do, some of it. There’s still a lot missing.”

“That’s understandable. The others don’t remember a lot about it. I don’t think they know who the other losers are.”

“Losers….” Stan trailed off, closing his eyes briefly, a slight headache starting to form. “We are the losers club.”

“We are,” Mike chuckled, a sense of relief flooding through his body. “Listen, I hate to cut this short, but I have to call the others. But I’ll see you soon, Stan the man.” 

A beeping sound alerted Stan that the call was over and he slowly let his phone fall on his bed. 

“Bev is the one with fiery determination and fiery hair to match,” he muttered. “ Ben is the kind-hearted poet. Eddie is the firecracker that exploded on anyone who annoyed him. Mike...Mike is the one who will go birdwatching with him no matter what time. Richie...Richie his best friend. His best friend annoyed him more than anything. Someone he always wanted to punch, but for some reason loved him more than he ever loved himself-”

Stan nodded to himself.

The losers, including him, were a tight-knit group. 

Mike, Bev, Ben, Richie, and Eddie…

Stan pursed his lips as he realized that he was missing someone. 

Someone important. 

The leader. 

The one who he would’ve followed to the end of the Earth.

Stan scanned his room, trying to gather up his thoughts when his eyes landed on a book he bought a couple of months ago. He didn’t understand why he bought it; he hated horror books, but something persuaded him to buy it. Reading it, it didn’t feel that bad. It comforts him as if this was something that was personal to him. 

He placed the book back to his place and stared at the author’s name. 

_ William Denbrough.  _

Stan took a step back, the warm feeling comes back to him. 

William Denbrough. 

Denbrough. 

William.

_ Bill _ .

_ “Suh-Stan, I’m going to miss you. You’re my best friend. You make me feel calm and don’t make me feel like I’m a f-freak because of my stu-stutter. Now, I’m leaving and you’re going to Georgia...I-I’m going to miss you.” _

_ “Bill, please...Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. You know I can’t handle you crying. I’m going to miss you too. I promise I’m not going to forget you. I promise. I’ll remember you and ho-” Stan paused. “...and how I feel about you. I’ll always remember. You’re not easy to forget.” _

And he didn’t. 

Stan always remembered. Sure, he forgot the name of the boy that made his knees weak, but he remembered the feeling- the love he had for him. The love he has for Bill. 

“Patty! We have to postpone our trip. I have to go somewhere-” Stan called out as he grabbed the nearby suitcase he was planning on using for his trip with Patty. He started going through his clothes when Patty came in, confused. 

“What? Where are you going?”

“Maine. Derry, Maine. I forgot I had promised someone that I will go. It’s kind of like a high school reunion,” Stan said, hurriedly as he packed his suitcase. 

“But-”

“I have to go. I have to, I’m sorry-”

Patty sighed, nodding. “Okay, I won’t ask questions, I’ll go buy your ticket to Maine. You owe me.”

Stan nodded, thanking her silently as he finished packing. He looked back at his room for the last time and smiled small as he turned off the lights, closing the door.

_ “I swear, Bill.” _

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @princestanley


End file.
